


Your Bones (Bleed Gold)

by heartfullofyeo (scenarios)



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternative Universe - College, Anal Sex, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings, as in introspective bc seonghwa is whipped, i guess lol it's a little vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22139902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scenarios/pseuds/heartfullofyeo
Summary: Somehow, Wooyoung had burrowed into Seonghwa's heart and made himself comfortable there. Seonghwa likes to pretend he doesn't care, but he always cares a little too much whenever it comes to Wooyoung.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 12
Kudos: 141
Collections: Round One





	Your Bones (Bleed Gold)

**Author's Note:**

> the title is inspired from around by niki [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f1fLFWxCCbI) | [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/track/6tv9CzrMUHQFrm9VHHO1hv?si=izRdrA0sQ9250WGkgCYHmg)
> 
> ***
> 
> prompt no. 39: "A and B go separately to a New Year’s Party, and end up standing next to each other during the countdown to midnight."
> 
> ***
> 
> hehe this is soft ... kinda c:

There’s only one thing Seonghwa is sure of at the moment. It’s that one, he’s had a couple of those fruity drinks because that’s all Mingi ever serves at his parties, and that two, he might just be cross faded. Just a little though. There’s a third thing Seonghwa is sure of too. That he’s stubborn and refuses to admit the fact that he has his attention on one Jung Wooyoung. He stares blankly ahead of him, the string lights emitting its fluorescent glow in the dark night and his friends are gathered around, laughing obnoxiously or zoning out ‘cause they’re just as faded as he is.

Staring up at the sky, he wonders, what if Earth is just someone’s food in the refrigerator and the sun was the light that came on every time that something opened the fridge doors? That would be wild. No, that would be cool. It’d be a breakthrough in science and the world they knew it, would be completely different.

You know what else would be cool? Getting over this lowkey crush he’s got on one fucking Jung Wooyoung.

Makes no sense because they don’t interact like, ever. Seonghwa can count on the amount of hands he’s got—that doesn’t make sense—he means fingers; and the number of fingers he has up right now is a whopping five.

Five awkward encounters—that was enough for him to notice Wooyoung. He can’t help it. His eyes just manage to locate Wooyoung out of the hundreds of crowded students. It’s like Wooyoung’s got an irresistible pull—he’s the gravitational pull of a planet and Seonghwa is like a moon revolving around him.

_A_ moon because Wooyoung is a planet worth many.

Actually, Seonghwa and Wooyoung have been hooking up ever since he started tutoring the other. Then, somehow, their friend group somehow mashed together when Wooyoung let Yunho’s name slip from his mouth. Funny how small their university is when there are thousands of students attending yet those thousands don’t matter because all that _does_ matter is Seonghwa and Wooyoung and their friends.

There’s a loud cheering coming from his left side but Seonghwa can’t bring himself to care. Not when he’s in the middle of introspective angst of his own doing. Yeah, he likes to sabotage himself but what else is new? Something like denying his “budding” feelings for Wooyoung seems like something he’s in the habit of doing except—Seonghwa isn’t in love with Wooyoung.

He has become an expert in ignoring side glances that are thrown their way whenever they’re together. Seonghwa remembers Hongjoong teasing him about how love sick he is whenever Wooyoung shows up. Despite all of Seonghwa’s efforts, he manages to run into the other no matter what he is doing. A run to the corner store at 2 AM? Wooyoung will be there. Escaping to the library for peace and quiet? There he goes again, occupying Seonghwa’s default table. Seonghwa will even see him at the head of his major’s office because Yeosang will be there.

It’s like the world has a plan for him and he’s the only one left out of the loop. _Stop being so stubborn, Seonghwa_. God. He even _thinks_ in Hongjoong’s voice now. Or is that Yunho’s? Both, he determines with a grimace, because neither of them can leave him alone to wallow in the way he wants to. Of course not, because he’s apt to drown in denial when it comes to Wooyoung.

Just like how when Seongwha first arrived, he denied that the first thing he did was take note of where Wooyoung was. He went straight to the alcohol instead, ignoring how much he wanted to talk to Wooyoung. There’s a time and place for that, and Seonghwa has always been good at prioritizing what needs to be done first. Wooyoung would argue against that but this isn’t about him.

Maybe.

The bass starts vibrating, startling Seonghwa out of his thoughts, as music starts pouring out of Mingi’s cheap—don’t tell him he said that—speakers.

“Hey,” Seonghwa shakes himself out of his thoughts and—it’s Wooyoung? He blinks slowly but no, the smiling image of Wooyoung still stands in front of him. He furrows his eyebrows because he can’t fathom why. Seonghwa has been hyper aware of exactly where Wooyoung is all evening. For him to be so close now is jarring. It’s hard connecting that he’s no longer over by San and them. He’s close enough for Seonghwa to get a whiff of his cologne.

“Hi,” he replies belatedly once he realizes that Wooyoung isn’t about to leave. Seonghwa doesn’t like being cheesy but god, the way the light bounces off of Wooyoung shouldn’t still make him look so attractive, but it does. Maybe it’s his stupid brain but if Wooyoung asked him for anything, Seonghwa is willingly to give him everything. Or at least, almost everything.

His feelings are a blob within his chest that stubbornly refuses to unravel themselves. Seonghwa doesn’t know what to do except pretend Wooyoung doesn’t make his heart leap out of his throat.

“Seonghwa,” Wooyoung approaches, plopping down in his lap. His mind goes into overdrive—too many factors intaking all at once with Wooyoung being here and in his lap and the way he looks at Seonghwa, wide eyes that are accentuated by heavy winged liner, eyeshadow smoked out and accentuating his eyes. He swallows hard, eyes landing on the pout that sits on Wooyoung’s moving pink, glossy lips. His lips are begging to be kissed.

“—are you okay with this?”

Snapping out of his reverie, Seonghwa asks him to repeat the question. He can’t help but stare. It’s especially worse considering it’s Wooyoung.

Wooyoung giggles and it makes his eyes shine bright even behind the alcoholic, high haze. Leaning in, he whispers in his ear, ghosting his lips against the shell of it, smearing goopy lip gloss all over and causing involuntary shivers to run along Seonghwa's back. His breath catches in his throat at the next couple words that leave Wooyoung’s lips.

“Hyung, can I give you a lap dance?” Wooyoung says, and it’s like sugar dripping from his lips. All saccharine and artificial strawberry—the flavor of his lip gloss. Seonghwa hates sweet things but he’s tasted enough of Wooyoung to know he wants more. He craves Wooyoung. A never ending hunger for him that is never satisfied.

“Yeah,” Seonghwa responds as nonchalant as he can without revealing exactly how much Wooyoung affects him. He succeeds, maybe, because Wooyoung just smiles at him while sliding off. That’s when he notices something else catches his eyes.

Something being along the lines of how fucking great Wooyoung’s ass looks in his hot pants.

Wooyoung starts right away, circling around Seonghwa. Slowly, his fingers dance across his shoulders and Seonghwa resolves himself to not look back at Wooyoung. He can only picture it; eyes half-lidded, face a little too serious for the environment they’re in—public and not at all intimate yet it feels like he and Wooyoung are the only two that matters here. Everything, everyone, else is drowned out.

They all pale in comparison to Wooyoung.

🌺

They stumble blindly into a room—Hongjoong’s, judging by the minion shoved at the corner of the briefly lit room. Turning on the lights, the stupid fairy lights turn on and god, Seonghwa wants to fuck Wooyoung straight up. Not with this weird pseudo romantic lighting.

They throw off their clothes as soon as Seonghwa locks the door, and before he knows it, they’re both naked and Wooyoung is pushing him onto the bed.

He clambers on, his perfect legs encasing Seonghwa with how he straddles him. Seonghwa finds his hands roaming up and down the length of his thighs to his ass. He squeezes, kneading the taut flesh, relishing in Wooyoung’s moans.

“You wanna fuck me?” Wooyoung grinds down against Seonghwa and his dick strains against his jeans from how aroused he is. He’s desperate to be in Wooyoung.

“Yes,” Seonghwa groans. The friction makes him sensitive and Wooyoung makes him nervous. Wooyoung grins at the slight shake in his voice and he rolls his hips back slowly, making a show out of it.

Wooyoung rummages through the drawer besides them, finally taking out a half-used bottle of lube after a while. He holds up an empty box of condoms too.

“Hongjoong hyung’s got game,” Wooyoung says before throwing it somewhere in the room. Seonghwa’s dick deflates a little at the mention of Hongjoong.

“Can we not mention other people please. Especially when I’m about to fuck you,”

“How polite,” Wooyoung giggles as he offers the lube out. “Do you want to prep me, or should I do it myself?”

Seonghwa stays silent, not knowing how to respond to that. Wooyoung rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll do it myself. Just watch.”

He squeezes the lube onto his fingers and Seonghwa finds it difficult to even breathe. He watches with bated breath as Wooyoung inserts a finger, then another quickly after.

The shoulder of his shirt slips and Seonghwa focuses on the flash of skin that shows—all tan and beautiful and inviting. It’s tempting and Seonghwa wants to sink his teeth into his skin. Wooyoung moans from working himself open and Seonghwa takes that opportunity to bite him. He sucks harsh at his skin and Wooyoung groans as he grinds down on Seonghwa.

“Fuck me,” Wooyoung says against his mouth as he bites down on his lower lip. They kiss and it’s messy and wet and so satisfying. Seonghwa is hypnotized. It’s almost like falling a little bit in love with each press of his lips on his, fingers crawling over exposed skin and digging into soft flesh. Wooyoung glows in his eyes, the fairy lights dancing across his skin. Whatever he says, wherever he goes, Seonghwa will follow in a daze.

Pushing Wooyoung down, Seonghwa cages him, his body encasing him from above as Wooyoung giggles, breaking his haze. “We—uh, condom?”

Seonghwa moves, but before he could go any farther, Wooyoung cups his cheek, heat radiating from his palm as Seonghwa places a hand on top. There’s this otherworldly feeling of being connected from just that.

“I’m clean,” and crystalized sugar is all Seonghwa tastes as he kisses Wooyoung, swallowing his moans. Pulling back, Seonghwa observes his work; bruised lips and blown out pupils meet his gaze, igniting an even brighter flame from within him. He hikes a tan leg up over his shoulder, littering it with fleeting kisses starting from the inside of his knee to Wooyoung’s inner thigh. The kisses grow progressively wet until Seonghwa reaches the junction between where his thigh and pelvic meets. Wooyoung’s toes curl, the sensations send his nerves into a frenzy. They run along up, electrifying his nerves and Wooyoung tries to pull away from Seonghwa’s touch, but his grip holds steadfast onto his knee, fingers curling around him, feigning delicacy.

Fingers ghost around his entrance, already wet and sticky with lube and Wooyoung opens his eyes, not realizing when he had closed them in the first place. Seonghwa thinks he’s beautiful like this. Splayed out, his hair fanned out, blond hair like a halo glowing beneath the dim lights. Wooyoung is like a sweet fruit of temptation that’s forbidden to touch, but Seonghwa has never been one for rules. He’s going to devour him whole. He’ll take a bite, savoring this little piece of Eden for himself. How could he resist with Wooyoung being so willing to give himself up to the devil that is Seonghwa.

In an intimate moment, they hold each other’s gazes. Maybe it’s the high, or maybe it’s the alcohol, but there’s a connection that’s been established on a higher plane. Seonghwa swears he can see the stars and planets revolve around in Wooyoung’s eyes. They’re bright and curious, beckoning him closer like supernovas threatening to burst at any given second.

Despite Wooyoung prepping himself earlier, Seonghwa eases a finger in, then another right after. A third quickly makes its way in, causing Wooyoung to inhale sharply. Seonghwa builds a steady rhythm, taking his time spreading his fingers inside of Wooyoung. His walls tensing, then slowly relaxing each time Seonghwa moves his fingers, never quite accepting the intrusion. The quiet sighs leaving Wooyoung’s mouth satisfies him. Makes him think about how different it is from every-day-Wooyoung; loud and quick on his feet, never losing precious time to think because he rather do right away than think. Always on the go and hard to catch. This time though, Wooyoung willingly comes to Seonghwa, confident he has him in his grasps but no. It’s Seonghwa who’s entrapped Wooyoung this time.

Or is it?

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa says, pulling out his fingers, leaning closer down to Wooyoung. The leg hiked on his shoulder goes down with him and belatedly, he realizes how flexible he is as his limbs easily go along with his movement. “Is this okay?” It’s a question pressed against the apples of his cheeks. Any previous sound emitting from the Outside is blurred out from either them. It’s only them left. Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Wooyoung and Seonghwa. Caught between nothing and everything in-between.

“Yes. Always.” It’s quiet. So different from bright, energetic Wooyoung but at the same time, not so different. The Wooyoung now is just as bright, only he’s like a sun flare. Sparking up only when the time and conditions are right, and that is Seonghwa. Seonghwa is right, and Wooyoung glows so brightly for him.

Seonghwa leans back, lubing his neglected dick up, hissing in relief from the cold touch of his hand covered in lube. He presses the tip of his cock at Wooyoung’s entrance before pushing in. The slide coupled with stuttering breaths from Wooyoung is always the most gratifying part whenever they fuck. It’s been awhile, but Seonghwa never forgets how Wooyoung feels, and he doubts Wooyoung’s forgets how he feels too, spreading his walls around his cock as they re-accommodate to his girth. Seonghwa may be average, but he makes it up in girth and, well, Wooyoung’s always been something like a size queen, and of course, he only wants and deserves the best.

Finally, he’s pressed flush to Wooyoung, and Seonghwa stays still, letting Wooyoung adjust until he’s comfortable. Brushing his hand over Wooyoung’s cock, Wooyoung jerks in his grasp, fingers clenching the sheets underneath him as a broken moan tumbles out of him. Seonghwa works his shaft loosely, dragging out extra sounds before Wooyoung tries to nudge his face with his knee.

“Stop teasing me and get on with it,” he quietly whines out. There’s an overwhelming feeling of fondness that bubbles up within his throat, threatening to burst open his chest and lay out all that he is to Wooyoung, exposing him. Making him vulnerable. But if it’s Wooyoung, then Seonghwa is more than okay with it. The little feelings that have taken root deep in his heart has sprouted, blooming in wonderful colors of reds, pinks and blues and yellows. Colorful. Just as Wooyoung is.

Seonghwa moves, rolling his hips along slowly, drinking in the sight of how blissful Wooyoung appears. A hand finds its way to Seonghwa’s free hand and holds it, fingers interlocked and resting on a hipbone. Their palms press together, a little clammy but it’s warm, heartbeat to heartbeat, and in this way, it’s more than just physicality.

The pleasure is slow building. Lazy thrusts from Seonghwa almost leaves Wooyoung wanting for more. Almost. It’s satisfying, feeling the slow drag of his cock in-between his walls, pace unsteady, as it makes an imprint in him, reminding him of why Seonghwa is his favorite. They move in tandem together, reading each other’s lip without a single sound passing through besides quiet sighs and small moans that hardly interrupts the silence. He basks in feeling Seonghwa. The high from earlier gently letting Wooyoung go, but he isn’t completely sober yet. Seonghwa himself is on fire, and Wooyoung finds himself burning along with him.

Seonghwa switches it up, grinding his hips against him, and Wooyoung clenches down, not expecting it. “What’s got you so distracted?” Seonghwa asks as he continues to press against Wooyoung, holding his legs just a little higher, angle hitting just a little bit deeper. Wooyoung does little to muffle his moan. Seonghwa loves it when he’s both loud and quiet. Every bit of him is perfect to Seonghwa, he knows this much to be true.

“Just thinking about you.”

Seonghwa lets Wooyoung’s leg off his shoulder from his tap, and Wooyoung pulls him closer, sitting up and his arms wrap around the back of his neck. They stop, breathing in each other’s space. Wooyoung smells sharp like metallic and weed and like artificial watermelon-flavored alcohol to Seonghwa, and Seonghwa finds that nothing else has ever intoxicated him like the lingering scent of Wooyoung.

“Now, kiss me like you mean it.” Wooyoung demands, lips brushing against his naked shoulder and setting his skin afire from just the gesture. He’s helpless, unable to do anything other than comply to Wooyoung. Seonghwa kisses Wooyoung something fierce. Passionately. Like they’re in love. But they aren’t. That’s just the drugs and the alcohol talking.

Seonghwa lays Wooyoung back down much too gently, cradling the back of his head, and Wooyoung wraps his legs around him, not letting him escape an inch.

“Now, fuck me like you mean it.”

Seonghwa pushes himself closer. Close enough to count the same number of lashes he knows that delicately frames Wooyoung’s eyes. He knows by heart the placements of his beauty marks, one that sits high on his cheek and another that sits on Seonghwa’s favorite spot; his lower lip. Kissing Wooyoung yet again, it’s different from earlier. More languid, with their mouths moving together comfortably, as if they have all the time in the world on their side. Seonghwa can’t help but think how awfully poetic they could be, beginning in nothing, climaxing in bliss, and ending in tragedy.

Swallowing the moans that spill forth from Wooyoung as he quickens his pace, Seonghwa bites his bottom lip, tugging it as he pulls away. Seonghwa grunts, Wooyoung’s walls clench around his cock, the mix of pain and pleasure has Wooyoung placing his hands on Seonghwa’s chest caught between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

“I’m close,” Wooyoung mewls, throwing back his head onto the mattress as he exposes his neck to Seonghwa. It glistens, mottled red and mauve from fading marks not caused by him. Seonghwa licks his lips, teeth aching with how inviting Wooyoung presents himself. A bow wrapped around the column of his throat would be perfect.

Seonghwa jerks Wooyoung’s cock in tempo with his thrusts. His hips grow sloppier in movement as he focuses more on Wooyoung’s pleasure. His eyes catch on the furious blush rising on Wooyoung’s face as he alternates between moving his hips back against Seonghwa’s and thrusting up in Seonghwa’s hand. Wooyoung shudders in his grip before spilling over his hand and his hole grows impossibly tight around Seonghwa, but Seonghwa stops. The sight of Wooyoung coming is an image burned into his mind. It’s amplified by the haze that surrounds him in Seonghwa’s eyes.

Wooyoung sits up, opening his eyes and frowning. “You haven’t come yet.” States it like Seonghwa isn’t still balls-deep inside him. Wooyoung takes the initiative as they end up back how they were before with him straddling Seonghwa once again.

“C’mon,” he says, pouring more lube over Seonghwa’s cock. His thighs quiver as he repositions Seonghwa at his entrance. Wooyoung holds his face in his hand, kissing him deeply before sinking down, sensitive walls in protest at an intrusion so soon again but he relishes in the extra zing of pleasure that is brought with the uncomfortableness of it all.

“Wait,” Seonghwa places his hands on Wooyoung’s hips to stop him from moving. “Are you sure? I can finish myself or something.” His fingers rub small circles into Wooyoung’s exposed flesh, soothing him, trying to ground himself back down from intermittent spikes of high that phase him in and out of what seems to be reality and a dream.

“Yeah, of course.” Wooyoung moans out as oversensitivity eats at his nerves. He always loves a good push-and-pull when it came to Seonghwa with this … thing that’s eating them both up inside. Wooyoung sees it all, but he’s a coward so he’ll hide behind himself until either one of them gives in or they lose everything all at once.

Seonghwa’s hand finds its way up to the side of Wooyoung’s face. He doesn’t cradle it, but he holds his hand there. Seonghwa has a secret. One he will never tell another soul. He loves touching Wooyoung. Loves the skin-to-skin contact. Loves the way Wooyoung curls into him for warmth. Loves the way he can lose himself to vast valleys and dips Wooyoung’s body makes. Seonghwa’s only wish is to be the only one whose fingers slot perfectly between Wooyoung’s.

“Wooyoung,” _I love you_.

Wooyoung sits still, straddling Seonghwa and holding his hand with both of his to his face. He leans his face close, too close because his eyes, windows to the soul, are vulnerable and yet—Yet, Wooyoung is a dream away from Seonghwa’s grasps.

“Seonghwa, I—” Seonghwa interrupts him, stealing the words threatening to crawl out of his throat. He doesn’t deserve to hear what Wooyoung wants to say. Doesn’t deserve to hear what Wooyoung wants to confess.

Tender moments like this hold no place here. Not with the current state they’re in, with fleeting, unidentifiable emotions. Seonghwa could take this chance now to say the words that have been weighing his lungs down in his chest so that he could finally breathe. So he could finally take a deep breath of crisp, fresh air that will smell suspiciously like Wooyoung’s cologne.

Seonghwa sits up, but a pair of hands pushes him back down. They stay there, firmly placed as Wooyoung has a determined glint in his eyes. “It’s my turn to take care of you now, Seonghwa.”

His mouth opens and closes, no sound coming out as Seonghwa doesn’t know what to say. A million thoughts run through his mind, all intent on rejecting Wooyoung and taking control like he always does. Because in the end, Wooyoung would let Seonghwa do whatever he wants to do if he chooses to. But this time, Seonghwa finds he doesn’t want to take control. This time, he lays back and watches Wooyoung, eyes half-lidded in growing anticipation as to what Wooyoung will do. Seonghwa hands over control to Wooyoung, and it feels as if the overbearing tension in his chest loosens up with the brilliant smile Wooyoung flashes down at him. The sight of Wooyoung smiling so brilliant accompanied by the fairy lights—it’s a vision to Seonghwa.

He doesn’t want to let go, so he won’t. Seonghwa will not let go.

Not anymore.

But did he ever have a choice?

. . .

”Do you even like Wooyoung?” Yeosang asks him once, when they were taking a break after hours of endless studying. That’s one of the downsides of friend groups colliding and mashing together. It happened in a series of accidents when Wooyoung discovered Seonghwa knows San from Yunho dating him and when Seonghwa found out that the student he tutors on the weekends is his best friend.

Seonghwa shrugs.

“So nothing, then.” Always straight to the point without beating around the bush.

Seonghwa appreciates that about Yeosang. Lord knows how much people tiptoe around him. It’s an annoying amount, and he doesn’t get _why_. He and Wooyoung don’t interact outside of their hook-ups. Ever. Kind of.

Usually, whatever happens, happens. It stays locked behind closed doors where mistakes happen. Not that Wooyoung is the mistake, no. It’s Seonghwa who is the mistake. His feelings only continue to grow each time, and it’s stupid because there’s no way in hell Wooyoung would return them. Seonghwa has always been somewhat of a dreamer, but he knows even then that dreams are merely dreams.

“There’s nothing.” Seonghwa says as he continues scrolling through his phone, resolutely ignoring Yeosang who is burning holes into the back of his head. That’s the problem with hooking up with one of your friend’s best friend. Especially if that friend is someone like Yeosang who would lay down his life for Wooyoung in a heartbeat if needed.

Yeosang hums in acknowledgment, not entirely believing Seonghwa but he ignores that. He doesn’t have any control over what Yeosang thinks or believes because it isn’t something that affects his life much as long as he continues to ignore the fact that Yeosang is his—Wooyoung’s best friend.

He ignores whenever they grab lunch together or when Seonghwa occasionally brings Wooyoung coffee when he’s off zoning on an art project or something. His heart stutters whenever Wooyoung shoots him a bright smile with a tired “thanks, Seonghwa,” because Seonghwa is reminded again and again that he’s in this—whatever this is—for the long run.

🌻

Seonghwa sighs into his coffee.

It’s 10 AM in the morning, the sun is out, flowers preening underneath the sunlight, and there are people bustling around, dodging or greeting each other with smiles on faces and full of life, and here he is, staring blankly into his paper-cup thinking about finals and about the fact that maybe he’s having a meltdown in the middle of this hipster coffee shop with ridiculously overpriced, sad coffee. Riddled down by the knowledge of impending debts and the very real fact that he, Park Seonghwa, is in love with one Jung Wooyoung.

Yunho slides into the seat across from Seonghwa, face all too bright for the morning. Seeing his bright smile lifts Seonghwa’s mood up just the slightest though, but don’t tell Yunho that. He will lord it over Seonghwa for years if he ever finds out how much comfort he brings Seonghwa sometimes.

“What’s up, Seonghwa,” Yunho’s legs bounce against the table. Seonghwa grunts in response, not up for conversation. He’s got his daily dose of coffee, but his brain isn’t awake enough to interact with anyone, much less someone who has a boundless amount of energy such as Yunho.

“Are you going to Yeosang’s New Year’s Eve party?” Yunho asks before continuing, not letting Seonghwa so much as breath. “Wooyoung will be there, you know,” he finishes with a shit-eating grin.

“It’s not like that.” Seonghwa denies. He doesn’t want to think about the lingering kisses Wooyoung pressed into his skin. Seonghwa still recalls how Wooyoung had practically asked him to stay. He doesn’t like to think about how Wooyoung’s eyes, dark and honest, had glistened when Seonghwa refused.

Yunho purses his lips but he says nothing in response. It’s a topic that has been revisited over and over and over again. Yet the results still remain the same. Seonghwa stands his ground and Wooyoung doesn’t push him and their friends continue to watch them break into tinier and tinier pieces each time they lie.

“When was the last time you fucked someone other than Wooyoung, Seonghwa?”

The question has him crushing his poor coffee cup in his hands. Yunho has always had talent in getting under his skin. Maybe if Seonghwa didn’t let Yunho get away with half the things he did, then it would be different. Seonghwa stares down at his coffee. If he could light something on fire just by his gaze, then the coffee cup would be decimated.

A sigh. “Seonghwa… Seeing you both like this hurts all of us. We just want you two to be happy. Why do you keep pretending?”

Leaning back into his chair, Seonghwa stares at the ceiling, suddenly feeling so very tired. “I,” he runs a hand through his hair out of nervous habit. Strange how Wooyoung makes him nervous even without him physically being here. “Wooyoung deserves better.”

“What makes you think that? Did Wooyoung say that?” The implication alone has Seonghwa sitting upright instantly.

“No!” He yells out before realizing how defensive it sounds. Lowering his voice, Seonghwa repeats himself. “No. Nothing like that. It’s more like what _doesn’t_ he say. There are so many things he deserves. None of which includes me because,” Seonghwa trails off because he realizes that Wooyoung let Seonghwa do whatever he wanted to him. He never asked for more than quick flings and open secrets, and he never seemed to want more.

Seonghwa wants to give him more.

“Because he can’t want someone like me.” Seonghwa finishes. Emotions flicker across Yunho’s face, all too vague for Seonghwa to completely get. The reign Yunho has over his emotions is tight, but it isn’t infallible. The rare nights where he holds Yunho in his arms tell all. Seonghwa knows.

Yunho softens his voice and Seonghwa doesn’t process what he says at first. He almost can’t. “Do you know exactly what Wooyoung wants or are you deciding for him, Seonghwa, because I know you have eyes and I know you know how to use your brain and I know you’ve seen the way he looks at you and I know you know how you look at Wooyoung too.”

“Seonghwa, you love him.”

He looks at Yunho then. Voice quivering and eyes blinking back tears as Seonghwa finally admits it out loud. “I do.”

💮

Seonghwa throws back a shot. It’s only his second one of the night yet it feels like nothing as it travels down his throat. The party is in full swing as people mingle around, loud and rowdy with a Tame Impala song droning on in the background. Fuck, he’s too sober for this.

The moment they stepped foot inside, Yunho disappeared from his side, leaving Seonghwa all by his lonesome. Well, actually, Yunho pushed him towards a direction, telling him to “find Wooyoung and confess or something,” and then promptly disappeared from his side. Seonghwa definitely didn’t ignore him and definitely didn’t not look for Wooyoung and definitely did not make a beeline straight to the kitchen where he knows Yeosang keeps all the hard liquor.

Course not.

“Seonghwa?” He jumps, too busy wallowing in himself to notice Yeosang walking into the kitchen. Yeosang holds back his laughter and does that thing where he judges without being too obvious about it. “Why’re you in here by yourself,” Yeosang tilts his head, briefly looking at the half empty shot glass in his hand and the mess on the table before rolling his eyes. “Lame. Are you doing shots by yourself?” Eyes narrowing and voice borderlines on becoming accusing. “Are you avoiding Wooyoung.” It’s a question without the question.

“I’m looking for him,”

“Looking for him in here with the shots? Don’t think you’ll find him in the pantry, Seonghwa.”

“Nudge me in the right direction and I will find Wooyoung,” Seonghwa says before downing the rest of his half empty shot. He holds his alcohol well unlike some others here. Yeosang shrugs before pouring himself a full one. He throws it back messy, liquor spilling out the sides of his mouth as he keeps eye contact with Seonghwa.

“You know where he is.” Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Yeosang cocks his head to the side as he raises his eyebrows expectantly before leaving Seonghwa to the company of his own self.

Seonghwa squeezes his eyes shut, muttering a quiet “fuck,” underneath his breath as he gathers himself. Running his hands through his hair, he thinks about where exactly Wooyoung could be. Seonghwa knows for sure that he’s here, begrudgingly thanks to Yeosang, he’s just got to think.

Wooyoung has always hated end-of-the-year parties, Seonghwa remembers. It was a confession he whispered beneath the folds of a blanket that covered him head to toe, leaving only his eyes and beyond exposed. He said it in confidant to a Seonghwa that must have already been in love with him then, because he remembers that night quite clearly. It was one of those nights where they didn’t do anything at all, and Wooyoung laid in Seonghwa’s bed, underneath his covers, clutching his hand and he let him.

Seonghwa let him.

After that, it was like there was another layer to their relationship. Instead of their usual “fuck it n’ leave it,” it became something like a mockery of a real relationship. Seonghwa suddenly found himself spending more time learning about the kind of TV shows Wooyoung loves. He spends most of the time being distracted by Wooyoung’s laughter though. It’s endearing to hear.

He also loves the way Wooyoung would blow his bangs from out his eyes in a huff, and how he would quietly talk to himself to remind himself to cut his bangs when he had the time. Or how Wooyoung tended to cling onto Seonghwa’s arm and eventually, his hand whenever he got too tired. He tries to hide his smiles, but Wooyoung gives him a look, and that’s when Seonghwa figures that he already knows.

Seonghwa doesn’t know when he became such a lovestruck fool. It must have been the first time Wooyoung held his hand. Everything felt so right then. It still does now, because Seonghwa can't shake the sensation of Wooyoung's soft, warm hands from his. He thinks it must have been one of the first times when he started noticing how his feelings for Wooyoung too.

That day, on a not-date when they were at an amusement park seated on the ferris wheel with Wooyoung sitting next to him talking about a mile a minute as he gazed out the window was when Seonghwa thought about wanting to always be next to him then. The steady heat Wooyoung emits as he sits next to him with their sides barely just touching has him craving for more from the other.

"It's kind of nice being this high up and isolated, huh." Seonghwa looks at Wooyoung then, finding the other to be already looking at him. The orange sun casting shadows over the soft slopes of Wooyoung's face manages to succeed in emphasizing how fucking perfect he is. Seonghwa never realized how delicate Wooyoung was until now.

"I love places like this the most," Wooyoung burrows into Seonghwa's side, leaning his head onto his shoulder. Tentative at first like Seonghwa will shake him off, but after he doesn't, Wooyoung leans his full weight onto him. "Places like this, isolated and high and allowing only a limited amount of people are my favorite because I can think."

The softest smile spreads across his face after awhile. "And because I get to be here with you."

Seonghwa lengthens his strides once he realizes the one place Wooyoung could be. A gush of cold air hits his face, making him sober up, or at least a lot more sober than he previously was before. Seonghwa is greeted by the very familiar back side of Wooyoung as he leans onto the guard rails, staring up into the night sky.

"How long have you been out here?" Seonghwa slides next to Wooyoung easily. He spots a can between his hands, different from the usual sugary drinks Wooyoung generally prefers.

"Not that long," Wooyoung eventually responds, hands curling around the can of his drink, nursing it. The tip of his nose is a faint blush red, betraying how long Wooyoung has truly been out here.

"You sure about that?" Seonghwa teases him, stepping close enough that they touch.

Wooyoung giggles, pushing back at Seonghwa when he nudges him. Hearing him giggle makes weird, airy feelings swell up within Seonghwa and he's tempted to act on his feelings but he doesn't know how to breach the topic. Thinking back on what Yunho said, or what he hinted, that maybe he's been blind all this time to how Wooyoung acts around him.

Seonghwa honestly can't believe that Wooyoung would want someone like him.

"It's going to be the new year soon," Seonghwa starts, half stalling and half looking for something else to say. His palms sweat despite the freezing weather and Seonghwa feels small under Wooyoung's bright eyes, but he continues despite everything. "What do you wish for for the new year?" He asks as nonchalant as he can. His insides are tugging him, wanting to go everywhere. They especially want to go out into the world and _tell_ Wooyoung everything.

He sees Wooyoung stiffen at the question before ever so slowly relaxing. Huddling closer to Seonghwa, he does what he loves doing best and he cuddles Seonghwa for warmth. Doing that, Seonghwa notices that the lack of warm clothing Wooyoung has on his person. He drapes his jacket over Wooyoung's shoulders without thinking much about it.

Seonghwa ignores the look Wooyoung sends him as the jacket settles over his shoulders. His hands lingering on said shoulders, but he quickly takes them away while peeking back at Wooyoung, trying to figure if he noticed.

"It's cold," is the only explanation Seonghwa offers.

"Your jacket... Take it back, Seonghwa," Wooyoung worries and is halfway to reaching up and taking it off but Seonghwa catches his hands and holds it between his, not letting him go. Wooyoung doesn't pull away but there's confusing in his eyes.

He's always been a push-and-pull kind of person, but Seonghwa finds that with Wooyoung, he wants to go headfirst without checking where he's going. That's how Wooyoung makes him feel. He makes Seonghwa feel as if there are no mistakes to be made.

It's true. There is no mistake to make if every step Seonghwa takes has Wooyoung next to him along the way.

Gesturing to himself, Seonghwa reassures Wooyoung. "I have a sweater on, at least. I know you're probably cold in that. Besides," he pulls Wooyoung into an embrace. Seonghwa isn't much taller than him, but it's noticeable enough to where he can press a kiss to the top of Wooyoung's ear without much effort.

"Besides, I have you to warm me up if needed," and Wooyoung is so close to Seonghwa, he can smell his cologne. It's musky and spicy and everything that Seonghwa has come to associate him with. He will never admit it but it's something he's come to miss.

It's the perfect moment; Wooyoung in his arms with his jacket, being close enough for a kiss in this cold, New Year’s Eve night.

Seonghwa watches as the breeze comes by, fluttering Wooyoung’s hair into his eyes, and he takes his chance. Wooyoung’s eyes close the moment Seonghwa moves the hair out of his face and their faces gravitate towards each other, unable to resist the pull. It’s almost magical in a sense, but then that becomes too sappy, and Seonghwa doesn’t want to linger on those thoughts. At least, not yet.

Leaning down for the kiss, Seonghwa almost makes his mark before Wooyoung turns his head away. “Wooyoung?” Seonghwa asks. A mixture of shock and disbelief and maybe even a little hurt colors his voice. Clearly, this is a rejection.

“Seonghwa,” his name lingers on Wooyoung’s lips. The loud thumping of the bass coming from inside practically drowning him out, but Seonghwa has become accustomed to Wooyoung’s voice. He will be able to pick it out despite all the noises and sounds that are made to distract him.

Wooyoung distances himself, wrapping his arms around him as if he’s protecting himself from both Seonghwa and the cold. “We should stop hooking up.”

Those words come crashing down on him. An odd buzzing sound overtakes his ears as Seonghwa sees Wooyoung’s lips moving, but no sound comes out.

“What do you mean?”

Taking off the jacket around his shoulders, Wooyoung holds it back out to Seonghwa. “I don’t think it’s good for either of us.”

Seonghwa can’t fathom why. “I—Why?” He can’t help but ask. He’s lost and confused and maybe Yunho was wrong and Seonghwa is merely making a fool out of himself now, in front of Wooyoung.

“I think,” Wooyoung licks his lips, both out of habit—because he forgets his chapstick all the time—and out of nervousness. There isn’t anything to be nervous about though. “I think—I mean, I’m tired of it.”

“Tired of it.” Seonghwa parrots back.

“Maybe I’m tired of you.”

Silence. Show stopping words. Fingers halting, close enough still to feel the heat radiating off of Wooyoung.

Seonghwa tucks the loose strands of hair behind Wooyoung’s ear. “Is it true?”

He can see Wooyoung’s resolve crumble. Seonghwa is given a shaky nod, and yet he still pulls Wooyoung into his embrace.

“I like you, Wooyoung.”

Tears roll down Wooyoung’s cheeks despite how much effort he’s put into holding them back. They drip down, and Seonghwa thinks about how effortlessly beautiful he is even underneath the ugly artificial light. Wooyoung shivers in his embrace, chills running through his body from both the onslaught of tears and the cold and Seonghwa’s confession.

“I really, really like you. It’s okay if you don’t return my feelings… I just want you to know,” he continues, eyes dutifully kept on Wooyoung.

Wooyoung rubs his face, getting rid of the tear tracks that line his face. His cheeks turn even redder from his rough handling of himself. He sniffs before breaking out into a weak laugh. “You like _me_?” The kind of self-deprecating tone that he uses makes Seonghwa frown.

“You can’t just drop something like this on to me, Seonghwa. Not after I said I wanted us to stop seeing each other. Now, I’m crying. Why do you always make me cry?” He hides his face in the crook of Seonghwa’s neck, warm tears damping his skin. “You always make me cry.” He’s never seen Wooyoung cry before.

The silence isn’t as agonizing as Seonghwa thought it would become with Wooyoung crying in his arms and with the moon hanging low in the sky, witness to all late-night confessions and sins that are performed under its light. Rather, Seonghwa feels at ease. He’s never been surer of anything in his life than now with the person of his affections held tight within his embrace.

“Don’t cry, Woo,” his nickname for him slipping out unintentionally out loud. Seonghwa sees how it startles Wooyoung enough to make him lift his face. “You’re still beautiful when you cry. I never thought I could like someone enough that I would still like them without the lies.” Seonghwa dabs his face, touch much too gentle, but how Seonghwa wants to treat Wooyoung is how he wants Wooyoung to know that that is how he should be treated.

Reverently. Like a blessing.

“Will I still be beautiful to you when I’m not moaning your name or when I’m not crying like this? Am I still beautiful when I want your full attention only on me or when I’m clingy and want to be reassured that you love me?” Wooyoung asks desperately, words coming out stronger with each question. “Is all I am is ‘beautiful’ to you, Seonghwa? No more, no less?”

“Wooyoung… I like you without your smiles. I like you without the pretense. I like you when we’re doing nothing more than laughing about the possibility of everything and when you flash me a shy smile and tug my fingers because _I_ want to hold your hands more than you’ll ever know. _I_ want others to know how precious you are when you end up thinking too hard and you cling onto me as a result. I want the world to know how much I fucking cherish you.

“Somehow, without realizing it, I started looking forward to when you would come over. Your cologne lingers. On my pillows, on my bed, in my space, in my head; everywhere. Somehow, I started to miss the warmth of you, too.

“So, yes. Yes, you’re more than just ‘beautiful’ to me, Wooyoung. You’re more than I could have ever hoped for, and you’re more than what you think you are to me.”

This is the rawest Seonghwa has ever felt. The most exposed he’s been ever since—well, ever since high school maybe, and the vulnerability he feels is humanizing. It’s hard reconciling with these feelings that he’s shoved away into a box melded so tightly shut that Seonghwa didn’t even know if it were possible for it to be opened again.

Wooyoung changed everything. He made Seonghwa realize that he can’t always keep people at an arm’s length. That he too, deserves to experience whatever love may manifest itself as to Seonghwa, and to him, it takes the shape of Wooyoung.

“Seonghwa,” Wooyoung has that tiny smile he never knew he could miss. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Fireworks explode the moment his lips meets his. Literally. The high-pitched whistles and crackling booms in the sky accompany them with colorful, flashy lights. Wooyoung’s grip on the sides of his face never lose their hold.

“I like you, too. Even when you like to pretend to be cool and like you have it all together. Even when you push me away because you’re scared of a little intimacy. I like you way too much. Even though we drive our friends up the walls with the way we are. I like you, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa feels the smile on Wooyoung’s lip even with his eyes closed. Wooyoung’s hands are a comforting weight that holds him down because he feels picked apart at the seams by Wooyoung, and it’s like Wooyoung is the one to sew him back together, bit by bit, and this was just the finishing touch. The final knot that completes Seonghwa and that puts him back together, because now he’s a little like himself with strands of Wooyoung entangle within him.

“Here’s to a happy new year, Seonghwa. May we be blessed.”

“Wooyoung. Be my boyfriend, please?”

A giggle. “I thought you would never ask. We’ve been dancing around each other for too long for me to say no now.”

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello! it's a little late for a new year's eve kiss but here it is! i'm sorry i procrastinated big time on this fic >< ty to the mods of cff that gave me an extension ;; i know you saw me ... take liberties with my fic hehehehe. also a HUGE thank you to all my friends who dealt with me crying in their dms, as per usual. ty kelly for once again consoling me through this because it seems i do this at every fest huh? i love ya. also ty to cici & penny for also giving it a quick look over. i really appreciate y'all.
> 
> woohwa really does hold a special place in my heart. seems that all i do is write them, huh. again, thank you for reaching the end of this fic and maybe reading my a/ns :D i will try harder to write better fics in the future.
> 
> love y'all 💛


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